


The League of Crazy Girls

by Midonin



Series: Tantei Opera Milky Holmes ~Crossroads~ [3]
Category: Tantei Opera Milky Holmes, Yuugeki Keikan Patvessel
Genre: Baritsu, Comiket, F/F, Gen, Spoof, heroic resolve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-09
Updated: 2011-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 19:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midonin/pseuds/Midonin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Milky Holmes is given a lead to the origin of their mystery key, which leads them to the first detective academy, Dupin. Arsene tries to stall them for reasons she won't reveal even to her subordinates. Truths will be revealed, Toys will be played with and Twenty finds himself unable to participate. The thrilling conclusion!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I: The Toys Beneath the Skin

_Toys, miracle blossoms flowering in the hearts of the chosen. Some bloom into pure flowers, others, into poisonous ones. It is the age of phantom thieves. These two flowers wage war to see if the great detectives or the phantom thieves are the most beautiful._

* * *

Holmes Academy is the most prominent of the detective academies in Japan, but it is not the only one. Last semester, one of our students, Sonia, was transferred to Poirot Academy, and the all girls’ school of Gray (nee Pryde) Academy is the living, breathing version of the flower garden Cordelia Glauca desires. Wolfe Academy is primarily a culinary school, and focuses on students with Toys that need to be powered by food. To be a detective in this, our age, is a wonderful thing.

Except for one little detail. We’re being trained to counter the phantom thieves that have made their home in Yokohama and other cities across the country. It’s a dangerous job, with property of international importance on the line, but we keep fighting until the day that gentlemen thieves are no longer a threat.

Greetings. My name is Akiko Watson. Holmes Academy is approaching its graduation ceremony, an eventful time for everyone. Except for one group of students who has higher goals on their mind than the graduation ceremony. What the Academy has put on them is little compared to what society has put them through. Their name is whispered throughout the school, their influence on us all cannot be measured, their most loyal companion is a cat. Time and time again I wonder why I got involved with Milky Holmes.

Sherlock Shellinford, the only one of the group who’s never abandoned a case, even when she had no idea what she was doing. Hercule Barton, a painfully shy girl whose demeanor belies her strength, both moral and physical. Nero Yuzurizaki, who can eat her weight while remaining her weight, and can be swayed by nothing but food. Cordelia Glauca is selfless to a fault, but when she acts on behalf of herself, the flowers in her hair apparently take over her brain.

After the Marlowe Hunt, in the middle of the spring when the cherry blossoms are in bloom, comes another event. It’s one that brings together detective schools from around the nation, giving young detectives a chance to prove their skills. The Case Market, or Caket for short, is where people can bring in what little information they have, and hand it off to a detective willing to take on the case. These cases range from small and harmless, like finding a lost pet, all the way up to elaborate conspiracies that require the collaboration of several teams. It was the 80th Case Market, and Holmes Academy had been transformed into a hub of activity.

“Henriette really came through for us this year,” said Sherlock.

“The food stands look better than ever. I wonder where she gets the money for all this,” said Nero.

“What’s important is that we figure out this,” said Cordelia, reaching into her breast pocket and producing an old key.

This curiosity had been located inside of an envelope given to us by Mycroft Shellinford. Milky Holmes had spent some time examining it shortly after the Hunt, but in time became distracted by other things. Many of these other things were at the insistence of their junior, Mori Arty.

“There are lots of famous detectives here. Maybe one of them knows?” said Hercule.

“Has anyone seen Mori?” I asked.

“She offered to clean up our dorm, she’ll be right along,” said Sherlock.

We pushed further into the Case Market. It eventually reached a point where our motion was halted entirely. To pass the time, Nero reached into her hat and produced today’s copy of The Scotland Yard. Sven Motomoto had written an article correcting the previous article, stating that Nero’s Toys were likely not from a demonic source. The crowds dispersed as the booths appeared before us. Detectives our age and several years our senior were present with their envelopes.

“What are those gold marks on the booths?” asked Sherlock. “I think sis had some of those.”

“The Kudo Award,” I said, “It’s Holmes Academy’s end of the year award for the detective or detective team that had the greatest overall success in their cases. Named in honor of the mysteriously vanished high school sleuth Shinichi Kudo.”

He was out there, somewhere. I had reason to be suspicious. That is for another case, though.

“I don’t see this one on the map,” said Cordelia, pointing to a booth that had been built near the fountain.

“Well, you can’t just sneak into these things,” said Nero, “Maybe they registered late.”

“Let’s go, let’s go!” said Sherlock.

There was only one person at the small wooden table. They had a black cloak that obscured their face, making them look like a monk from some long lost religion. A sketchpad was beside them, filled with random drawings from their previous cases. Cordelia placed the key before this person on the table. They picked it up and examined it between their fingers, running over every crevice.

“Have you looked at the writing on this key?” asked the person, speaking in a boyish voice.

“It’s kind of worn,” said Hercule.

“I believe I’ve seen something like this before, yes. You lose many things when you’re on a journey, but the things you gain in return, perhaps, are of more value,” said the cloaked figure.

“So you know what it’s for?” I asked.

“Perhaps. Since you came to my booth, would you be interested in taking up my case?” said the cloaked person.

“Of course! Thank you, mystery person!” said Sherlock.

The person in the cloak handed us the envelope. I paid the small cost for the clues, as Milky Holmes was still lacking any funding. I invited Sherlock and the rest into my clubroom. It was a long walk across campus towards the classrooms where the clubs were. This gave us a chance to enjoy the landscape. The sky was cloudy, but not overcast, the sun’s warmth broke through the clouds, and a soft wind blew across campus, shaking the flower gardens.

The following events I only heard later from Sherlock, and even then they might be exaggerated. She walked off the beaten path and into a room full of old school uniforms. Kamboko the cat had somehow gotten in there. He nuzzled up against his master’s leg, taking a break from pawing at the dusty fabric. He sat down and started licking his paws. Then he began to speak. His mouth never moved and his face never changed expressions, but his voice could be heard loud and clear.

“Become a great detective, and I’ll give you your Toys. All you need to do is make a contract with me,” said a voice from the vicinity of the cat.

Power to the powerless was a strong temptation, especially in this modern world where Toys could change your life. Sherlock Shellinford, however, treated any mystery like her first, and was at the moment more surprised that Kamaboko was talking than why he was talking. She picked him up and started tickling him.

“You can talk! You sound like Nezu,” said Sherlock, “I bet you have a lot of things you want to tell me. Unless Nezu became a ventriloquist or there’s a speaker somewhere...”

“Would you listen to what I’m trying to say?” said Kamaboko, “Make a contract with me to become a great detective, and I’ll give you your To-”

Sherlock placed the cat on her shoulder and faced the window of the old uniform room. The light shone past her giant ribbon. Kamaboko was distracted by the sunbeams. Sherlock pointed towards the door. She took out her lucky magnifying glass and held it up to her eye.

“Solving mysteries with our lovable talking cat! Milky Holmes’ triumphant return starts today!” said Sherlock.

“You’re a dense one, aren’t you? I’m offering you a way to get your Toys back,” said Kamaboko.

“That’s what that was about? Mori told me I just need to get into a death-defying situation, and I’m still waiting for one of those. Anything else wouldn’t feel right at this point. I promised her, you know,” said Sherlock.

“Sherlock Shellinford, you are a strange person,” said Kamaboko.

Sherlock walked out of the uniform storeroom with the cat on her shoulder. She turned around to ask him another question, but the cat had returned to being a cat. He had always been just a cat, because Arsene was hiding on the rooftop of the school, using her Illusion Toys. She clenched her teeth and growled something under her breath. The rest of the Phantom Thief Empire came to her side.

“Things are going to get critical,” said Arsene.

“Did that cat sound like me?” said Rat, looking down at the ground, “That’s really what I sound like?”

“Does this begin before we met you, Lady Arsene?” asked Stone River.

Arsene removed her mask, returning to being Henriette. “I’ve done things to get ahead that I regret. If any of you know a way to stall Milky Holmes, please. Do it for me.”

“Don’t worry, Lady Arsene! Beautiful me will be in their faces before you know it!” said Twenty, hollering loud enough that he attracted the attention of students down below.

Case Market 80 drew to a close. What cases had been given, however, would have their effects felt throughout the school for some time to come.

* * *

This was the first time the other three from Milky Holmes had seen our clubroom. Cordelia and Hercule took their seats at the desk. Sherlock pulled out the computer chair, clutching the envelope between her fingers with excitement. Nero immediately started looking for the mini fridge.

“Even the school clubs are eating better than we are,” Nero said, “Hey, Akiko, where’s the food?”

“You’re not going to find that much here,” I said, “We spend most of our time in the shadows. If an Irregular was caught, it would spell the end. Inviting Henriette’s anger has never ended well.”

Memories of last semester returned. Henriette had seen no problem with Milky Holmes’ attic room exploding. The room had since been rebuilt, but that brief period where the top of the dorms was a mess of charred ash and rubble still haunted their memories. Sherlock sat at the table with the rest of us.

“Where’s Victoria?” she asked.

“Out on a special assignment from the president,” I explained. “This case file is sealed really well. It looks professional.”

I opened the envelope and found a small folder within. The first thing to fall out was a piece of paper. On it were super deformed drawings of a girl in the manga style. She was moving her arms and legs about. It looked like someone had traced them out of a flipbook. There appeared to be no immediate pattern in the girls’ motions.

Also in the folder was a picture of Henriette. She looked a year or two younger, and her hair was longer. She was also dressed in a different school uniform, one that nobody could immediately place. The last piece of information was a printout from an image board conversation two years ago. It was written in a language that was barely comprehensible, but still appeared to be Japanese.

“Students attempt to use Toys to overtake school?” I said, reading the article.

“That sounds like the kind of thing a phantom thief would do,” Nero said, eating a candy bar she had pulled out of her hat.

“What does this have to do with Henriette?” asked Hercule.

“The four of you are supposedly the top students, so...” I said, “Do you know what the first detective academy established was?”

“I know,” said Cordelia, “Dupin Academy. Didn’t it start off as a school for delinquents?”

“Originally. Then it became one of the chief centers for Toys research, but closed down to an incident that the papers haven’t revealed. It’s outside of Holmes Academy’s territory, so Victoria and I haven’t been able to uncover much. What I am certain of is that the key Mycroft gave you has something to do with it.”

“Sis!” said Sherlock, pounding her fist into her hand.

In her career, there had been one case Mycroft Shellinford was not able to solve. She had been asked to solve a case of detectives and civilians being found Toyless in the countryside, but there was little evidence, and what clues they could find tended to loop back on themselves. Mycroft hadn’t given up the case, but decided to pass along the key to the younger generation, hopefully her sister, knowing they might understand the nature of Toys better than her.

“Dupin Academy hasn’t been demolished?” asked Hercule.

“It’s too important to be,” I said, “We can solve this Caket file later. The four of you need to get Henriette to let you take a field trip, no matter what you have to do.”

“Henriette’s the best student council president this school’s ever had. There’s no way she wouldn’t let us go,” said Sherlock.

* * *

“No.”

“Miss President...” said Sherlock, frozen in shock.

“Your Toys still aren’t back, and every time you do attempt to do something, you screw it up. Why should I allow you to go outside Yokohama with school sanctions?” said Henriette.

Ishinagare, Nijuuri and Nezu were hanging off the edge of the second story window, peeking in the room.

“We think we might have a lead on the key Mycroft left behind,” I explained.

“Another thing,” interrupted Henriette, “Where’s Mori?”

“She’s with her first year friends,” said Nero, “Let the kid have some time to herself. She can’t be with Milky Holmes all the time.”

From the window, Nezu whispered to the other two.

“That’s what Lady Arsene is worried about,” he said.

“All of you are on cleanup duty after class today,” said Arsene, “This is the president’s orders.”

“This gives beautiful me more time. Thank you, Lady Arse-” said Nijuuri, about to jump into the president’s office.

Ishinagare snagged the back of his collar with his sword. Nijuuri found himself dangling from the blade like a harness, the soft grass waiting for him below. He escaped the only way he knew how. By removing his jacket and landing on the ground, rolling in the dirt and smiling at no one in particular.

“For thieves, we’re not very stealthy,” said Ishinagare.

Milky Holmes, dejected, returned to their classrooms. Sherlock tried to pass notes to the others, but Mr. Nijuuri kept grabbing them and reading them aloud. I, sitting several rows across, could only wonder where Sherlock’s passion came from. Her older sister was trying to get out of solving cases, her friends were as delusional as she was, and for as much as she respected Arsene, she was willing to ignore her too. It was as if she hadn’t even noticed the world was disagreeing with her.

Sherlock pulled out the first piece of paper she could find in her notebook. She hastily scribbled a message onto it. “We begin after school.” She handed the note over to Hercule, but Mr. Nijuuri chose that moment to look up from the blackboard. He did not see the message written, but what it had been written on. He reached into his pocket and produced a monocle, then called out into the hallway.

“Lady Arse- I mean, miss president!” he said.

Henriette walked into the classroom and looked at the piece of paper. Her face turned bright red. She turned it around and presented it to Sherlock. It was the strip of paper with the dancing girls from the case file. Sherlock’s penciled message was visible through the transparent paper.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked.

“None of us does,” Sherlock answered honestly.

“Thank you,” said Henriette under her breath. She spoke aloud again, “Don’t forget cleaning duty.”

The end of the day was approaching. Brooms and dustpans had been set out in all the classrooms. Milky Holmes, watching the other students leave homeroom, knew they had a tedious task ahead of them. I, waiting outside in the hallway, was reclining against the warm windowsill, looking out across the campus. Hard to believe only a few days ago it had been swarming with activity. I walked through the hall, towards the student council’s office. They were wrapping up a meeting on what to do about the Kudo Award.

“Mycroft Shellinford received many Kudos,” said the vice president, “Should her younger sister be considered for one?”

“Sherlock has messed up far too much,” said Henriette, “but saving the city is something noble. She should be on the list, at the very least.”

Henriette left the classroom. I reclined against the wall and closed my eyes. The air in the hallway changed. It felt warmer for a second, and a peculiar smell hung in the air. Henriette grabbed her stomach. She checked to make sure if everything was alright, and resumed her walk through the hallway. She was going to check on Milky Holmes once again.

In the classroom, Cordelia was drawing scribbles on the chalkboard instead of cleaning it. Nero was holding out one of her wristbands, looking at the supplies in the closet. Sherlock and Hercule were the only ones actually sweeping up the room. After collecting a large wad of dust, Sherlock stared at it intensely. She hoped her Toys would return, but all she got was a large sneeze, sending the dust flying and scattering across the room. Henriette walked through the cloud of dust.

“Henriette! We weren’t slacking off, really!” said Sherlock.

“Except for Cordelia,” said Nero.

“I’m trying to make this room look pretty,” said Cordelia, finishing her crude sketch of herself frolicking in the flower fields.

There was something different about Henriette. Her eyes had a faint red circle around them, giving her an otherworldly aura against the painted sunset. She was the same in all other respects. She spoke to Sherlock, her speech patterns a bit less formal than usual. It was the afternoon and Henriette had been hard at work, so perhaps this was a side of her Sherlock had never seen before.

“The student council has agreed to let you go on your expedition, on one condition,” she said, “Whatever you find must be submitted to win a Kudo Award. You have to win. I’ve always believed in you, Sherlock! The school is counting on you.”

Sherlock embraced Henriette, her face resting on her breasts. Henriette briefly hugged Sherlock back, then let go. Sherlock turned to the others and pulled out her lucky magnifying glass, holding it to the sunset window.

“Something small is about to become much, much larger,” she said, “Let’s go!”

Milky Holmes charged out of the classroom, thanking Henriette as they went. Henriette clutched her stomach once more. She opened her eyes. The red ring around them was gone. With Milky Holmes nowhere to be found, Henriette climbed onto the window and scaled to the rooftop.

The four detectives ran past me in the hallway. I opened my eyes, waking up from my catnap. Sherlock embraced me by the hand, pulling me along.

“This is the adventure you’ve wanted to go on with me, isn’t it?” she asked.

“What’s going on?” I said.

“Henriette gave us permission,” said Nero.

I replied, “Really...?”

“She is a kind person deep down. She wouldn’t give up on us again,” said Hercule.

“Has anyone seen Mori?” asked Cordelia as we reached the end of the hallway.

“I think she was sleeping,” said Sherlock, “Using her Toys must be tiring for her.”

In an unrelated incident, Mr. Nijuuri’s hug pillow, “Beautiful You”, had gone missing from the laundry that evening. He had hijacked the PA and declared to the entire school that anyone who found his beloved pillow would receive extra credit. The detectives of Holmes Academy would leave no stone unturned, but that is another story for another time. With only a map, a single backpack full of supplies, and the clothes on our backs, we departed from Holmes Academy.

* * *

The sun set on another day at the Yokohama Police Station. Kokoro had been rallying to be on the night shift, wanting to prove she was more than a kid, and so her squad mates had obliged. Hirano, Tsugiko and Saku, already changed into their casual clothes, were leaving Kokoro behind at the station.

“Call us if you see anything,” said Hirano.

“Food’s in the fridge. Don’t gorge yourself,” said Saku, rapidly clicking on her keyboard.

“See you in the morning, Kokoro,” said Tsugiko.

“Stop treating me like your little sister! The beautiful genius Kokoro Akechi, who graduated from Harvard at the age of 13, will take none of this from people who are supposed to be my friends!” exclaimed Kokoro, barely stopping to catch her breath.

“You need to prove yourself. You haven’t even solved a case on your own yet. That Kudo kid makes you look like an amateur,” said Saku.

“I’ll solve a case by tonight,” said Kokoro, crossing her arms.

“Okay, okay. Have fun on the graveyard shift,” said Hirano.

The rest of Genius 4 departed. Kokoro took a seat. The station she had been put at was on the far edge of town, where Yokohama bordered Yamato. She sat down and opened her meal from a nearby convenience store. She wished she could get the kind of meals she had at home, or even at school, but the Yokohama Police had recruited a genius like her the moment phantom thieves started appearing. A picture of Genius 4 hung on the wall. Kokoro looked at herself, propped up on Tsugiko and Hirano’s shoulders, smiling smugly.

“Should I wait for the case to come to me, or should I go to it?” asked Kokoro to herself.

She heard the sound of footsteps in the darkness. Milky Holmes, being led by me, approached the station. The very small police box was suddenly filled with more people than it was meant to hold. Nero reached into her pocket and pulled out a fresh pair of chopsticks. She reached for the plum on top of the rice in Kokoro’s lunchbox. Kokoro noticed a second too late.

“That was my dinner,” said Kokoro, pouting.

“We’ve been running for hours, I need something,” Nero said.

“Where are you running to? Academy expel you again?” asked Kokoro.

“It’s a case for the Kudo Award,” said Hercule.

“We’re investigating Dupin Academy,” said Cordelia.

Kokoro, standing under the sole light bulb in the police box, had her eyes light up at hearing that name. She scrolled through her tablet’s database, looking for something in the Yokohama Police’s history. She pulled up the file.

“You mean the Dupin Academy where a Toys rebellion took place?” she asked.

“That’s the one!” said Sherlock.

A smirk crossed Kokoro’s face. She presented her badge to Milky Holmes, the golden lettering shining underneath what few street lights there were.

“Something this dangerous will require some supervision. A professional officer like myself should go with you and make sure the proper authorities can be reported to if something bad happens,” she said, straining to hold back her deviousness.

“You’re younger than us,” said Hercule.

“Dumber too,” said Nero.

“As the oldest, I would be the one in charge of this group,” said Cordelia.

“I don’t want to hear that from the failure detectives!” said Kokoro, her mask of sincerity breaking as quickly as it had been built.

“So you’re going with us?” asked Sherlock.

Kokoro stood on top of the table, momentarily banging her head onto the ceiling. She crouched down. “Of course I am. It’s only one of the most famous cold cases in years. You’re going to need someone with an IQ of 180 trillion like me to help you dumbasses do something right.”

“Thank you, Kokoro-chan!” said Sherlock, embracing her tightly.

Kokoro slid her foot into the gap in the chair behind her. The chair flipped over, sending the golden mask that had been on the seat off like a catapult. Sherlock was knocked backwards. The mask rebounded off her face.

“Don’t call me Kokoro-chan!” said Kokoro, catching the mask as it spun around in midair.

Sherlock just as quickly stood up, ignoring the large bump on her head where the mask had struck. She held her finger up to the nearest street light.

“We’re heading to Ayase!” she declared.

“Shellinford, you are aware of how far that is?” I asked, whispering the distance in her ear.

Sherlock’s face froze.

Kokoro walked into the station and got on the radio. She sounded bored, despite the weight of the conversation. “Hey, Chief. Officer Akechi. Gonna need to borrow the copter for tonight. Yes, I’m with an adult! Later.” She turned to Milky Holmes. “G4’s chopper is all ours.”

Kokoro took us to a field not far from the police box. A large helipad, lights shooting up into the black sky, had been set up. The helicopter, dark blue and emblazoned with the Genius 4 emblem, descended. The pilot stepped out, waving to us.

“What do you girls need this for? I can fly you to wherever,” he said.

“We don’t need your help. Kokoro Akechi can fly it herself. Plus, it’s classified,” she said, speaking the last sentence with the utmost seriousness.

“After you, Watson,” said Cordelia.

I climbed into the helicopter and took a seat in the back. I reclined my head across the seat, closing my eyes to shield them from the bright glare of the city lights in the distance. Hercule, Cordelia and Nero took seats beside me, with Sherlock and Kokoro moving up to the front. The helicopter door slammed shut. Kokoro strapped herself into the pilot’s seat and extended her leg towards the floor. The helicopter, though turned on, did not move.

“Have you ever flown a copter before?” asked Cordelia.

“Of course I have, I’m a genius!” said Kokoro.

“I get it,” said Nero, holding in her laughter, “You’re short.”

“Cut it, tomboy,” said Kokoro, glaring at Nero with the fury of an angry bear.

“Say, Yuzuruzaki, you can control machines, can’t you?” I asked.

“Well, yeah,” said Nero, “but I don’...”

“Being that high up in the air with our reputations at stake... this is a death defying situation, isn’t it?” asked Hercule, hiding her face beneath her hat.

“Guess it is,” said Nero, “Back off, shorty. I’m flying this thing.”

Nero sat down in the pilot’s seat. She strapped herself in and closed her eyes. When they opened once more, a red ring was around the edges of her eyes. She pulled off one of her wristbands and stuck it into the control panel. Electricity flowed from the machine to her fingers. The rotors began to whir, and we felt ourselves lifting into the air. The city of Yokohama looked like a toy from up here; the sites of previous battles all lined up before us.

“This is Copter G4, now departing from Yokohama to Ayase. We should be arriving at our destination before midnight,” said Nero.

“Nero...” said Cordelia, “Your speech sounds so feminine. Maybe your girliness has finally blossomed?”

“Think nothing of it,” said Nero.

The night skies of Japan spread out before us. We passed over Yamato for a brief moment before Ayase came upon us. Ayase didn’t have its own train station, leaving it disconnected from the rest of the world. We flew over a large grassy field when something struck the propeller. We saw something black and round roll down the side of the copter. It caught itself in the landing gear. The fuse burned down, and the bomb went off, making a dent in the side. We started spinning out of control.

“We’re doomed! This is all your fault, you idiot!” said Kokoro, holding close to Sherlock.

“If we can land on something...” said Nero, “Hold on!”

The helicopter’s blades got stuck in a large tree. The door opened, allowing us to scale down the branches. We were bruised, but still able to function. Nero blinked and clutched her stomach. Her eyes had returned to their normal color. Hercule’s long skirt became trapped on the branches on the way down. She quickly moved her hands to her legs to hide anything. Cordelia and myself grabbed onto her arms and pulled her down, ripping her skirt in the process. Hercule blushed even brighter from the light breeze blowing across her leg.

The grass started to rustle. We weren’t the only ones here.

“Did my bomb cheer you up?” asked Rat, holding another one in his left hand.

“You’ll go no further,” said Stone River, drawing his katana.

“The Three Cards,” said Cordelia.

“There’s two of them,” said Nero.

“Where’s-” Hercule was cut off in mid sentence.

A flash of wind blew past a nearby telephone pole. A pair of panties appeared. Arsene looked like a tomboy compared to the figure before them. She had a top hat and a billowing cape, her face adorned by a simple butterfly mask. “The noble lone butterfly dancing in the night!” she declared, jumping onto the ground.

“What’s going on?” asked Rat.

“High, distant, beautiful, the gorgeous and elegant flying form! There is nothing I cannot steal! A gorgeous and elegant lady, the name is Phantom Thief Roll! On stage!”

She held her hand to the side of her mouth, laughing maniacally.

“Did Lady Arsene send you?” asked Stone River.

“It’s the least I could do for Twenty,” she said.

“Stone River! Rabbit! You have nothing to do with this,” said Sherlock, “We’re going to Dupin Academy, and you’re not going to stop us.”

Roll’s face twitched in annoyance.

“My name is Rat! After all the times we’ve met, I expect you to get it right!” Rat said, lobbing a bomb at us.

“What’s at Dupin Academy?” asked Stone River.

Kokoro stepped in front of us. She wasn’t going to block much with her height. “G-Shield!”

A golden police shield appeared in place of the golden mask she carried with her. It diverted the fire from Rat’s bomb, charring only the surrounding landscape and not us. She ran ahead, hoping to knock the underpowered Three Cards out of the way and clear a path for us. Rat and Stone River jumped out of the way. Kokoro felt something bouncy reflect her shield, pushing her back.

“What kind of Toys is this?” asked Kokoro, unable to see anything.

“Officer Akechi, I don’t think that’s...” I tried to warn her.

“This is the best Yokohama can produce?” said Roll, pushing Kokoro’s G-Shield into the ground, “Your superhero toy is cute. For a little girl.”

Kokoro launched her spiel at Roll once more. Her face was turning red, and she was standing on her tiptoes in an attempt to appeal taller. The flat plain wasn’t doing her any favors.

“No wonder Twenty didn’t mention you. You’re not worth mentioning, Kokoro-chan,” sneered Roll.

Kokoro retracted her shield. She held her arm close to her chest, depressing the shield deployment button against her chest. She swung her arm out with a whoosh, projecting the golden shield into the distance. It spun around like a boomerang, slamming into Sherlock’s back and sending her to the ground. It came full circle, and Kokoro rammed it into Roll.

“Don’t call me Kokoro-chan!” she shouted.

With the full momentum of her swing behind it, Kokoro climbed onto the shield and urged us to follow. We ran after her, jumping onto the increasingly large weapon, riding it into the streets towards our destination. We heard the sound of a bomb exploding behind, knocking the Three Cards into the air. Rat and Stone River brushed the soot off their body and prepared to report to Arsene. Roll would not go so lightly.

“I wasn’t informed this would happen,” she said, “Your ride ends here, Milky Holmes! Spin spin spin spin spin...”

She pulled out a cane from her shirt and began whirling it around, creating a whirlwind. Rocks were picked up off the ground and began flying through the air, aiming for us like granite butterflies. We ducked, making us go even faster. I collapsed onto Cordelia’s back. Cordelia felt a sharp pain in her stomach. She blinked, and, in an instant, felt the world around her become full of sights and sounds in a way it had not been before.

“Kokoro, turn right,” she said, “Car incoming.”

Kokoro pulled hard on the edge of the shield, diverting us away from traffic. One of the rocks Roll had sent flying slammed against my body. I showed no reaction, enduring the pain for now, but it felt like something had been lodged inside of me. I could deal with that later. Cordelia shouted more directions to Kokoro, which eventually took us to the top of a small hill. We launched into the air. The shield, its energy having run out, vanished, and we fell to the ground.

When Cordelia opened her eyes, once with a red ring around them, had returned to normal.

“Is everyone alright?” asked Sherlock.

“I thought you didn’t have your Toys,” said Kokoro.

“When did I use my Toys?” asked Cordelia.

I stood up and grabbed my shoulder. “There’s only a little bleeding. I’ll be able to make it,” I said.

“If you’re hurt, you should let us know,” said Hercule.

“Hey, guys,” said Nero, pointing to the horizon line, “Do you see what I see?”

A great campus loomed in the distance. The stone walls where gates had once stood were there, but the gates themselves had crumbled into rusted fragments of metal, barely resembling their original form. The building had once been a sandy color, but had become overgrown with ivy to the point that it looked a sickly green. Nero read one of the road signs posted beside us. The paint where someone had tried to cover up the name of the building ahead had begun to crack, revealing the true nature of the location.

“Dupin Detective Academy,” said Cordelia.

“We made it,” said Nero.

“I told you I’d get us there!” said Kokoro, brushing herself off and adjusting her skirt.

“Come on, Watson,” said Sherlock, wrapping her arm around my shoulders, “I’ll get you there.”

We started walking towards the campus, but our bodies gave out before we did. We found a nice patch of grass in a forested area, and rested near each other under the shade of an old tree.

* * *

At a campsite not far from where we slept, an elaborate tent had been set up. Two men and two women were sitting around the campfire. All of them were dressed in costume.

“We would’ve had them, Lady Arsene, if it wasn’t for this third rate criminal tagging along in Twenty’s place!” said Rat.

“If Twenty had been there, I think we would have still lost,” said Stone River.

“You can’t expect me to get along with someone I barely know. I can at least tolerate you two!” said Rat.

“I’ll have you know that back in my hometown, I’m looked up to as a hero,” said Roll, taking off her butterfly mask and rubbing it on her dress.

“We’re not supposed to be heroes,” said Arsene, exiting from her tent, “We work on the opposite side of the law for a reason. All I asked you to do was take care of Milky Holmes. Expect anything from them.”

“What about the Yokohama Police?” asked Roll.

“Why would they be in Ayase?” asked Arsene.

Roll stood up and set down her top hat, brushing her drill curls past her face, “It was that little brat Kokoro. If it hadn’t been for her, I would have taken them!”

“This is no place for would haves,” said Arsene, “Leave the rest up to me.”

“Lady Arsene!” said Rat and Stone River together.

“What about me?” said Roll, shouting over them.

Arsene stood up and removed her mask, transforming into Henriette. She grabbed the edge of her sleeve and tossed her Holmes Academy uniform into the air. Beneath it was a completely different uniform, colored a much darker shade of black, with a red bow. It emphasized her figure, which only drew attention to the fact that it was half a size too small.

“You’re as important to me as they are. This is not the Lady Arsene you should know,” she said.

“I’ll go with you. Let me get revenge on that Akechi girl,” said Roll.

“Go back to your own city, Makiko,” said Henriette.

Roll froze. She got down on her knees and into the same circle of confusion that Rat and Stone River were already in. In a few hours, the birds would start chirping, signaling the beginning of a new day. The weather was perfectly clear. It only served to make Dupin Academy seem more dilapidated.


	2. Part II: The Bonds of the Four

I was awoken on the next day not by the dew dripping from the tree leaves, but from the sharp pain where the debris had been lodged into my body. I went looking for a nearby river. The rest of our traveling party was asleep, leaving me to inch along and endure the pain. I found the river, rolling through the plains of Ayase at a brisk pace, and put my skirt on a nearby tree. The cold water brushed past my legs, refreshing me.

I heard the sounds of someone else further down the riverbank. From here, they looked like a fuzzy silhouette against the rising sun. I called out to them.

“Are you a local?” she asked in return.

“Here on a visit,” I said.

“Visit for what?” she called out in response, scooting further down.

Now I had a better picture of who she was. Short hair, a sizable bust, taller than average height.

“We’re investigating that campus. I think it’s closed,” I said.

“You don’t want to go there,” she replied, “Sometimes the past must be left alone.”

“Better to work with what you know than what you don’t,” I said.

In the blink of an eye, the girl on the riverbank had vanished. I felt something warm at my back. Sherlock, having just woken up, had lazily stumbled over to me. Her ribbon was askew and her clothes hung off her shoulder at odd angles.

“Good morning, Watson,” she said, “I dunno if soaking your legs in the river will help your shoulder.”

“I-it wasn’t my shoulder,” I said, “It was my... thigh that was hurt.”

“Let me take a look at it,” said Sherlock, leaning down on the ground.

“You don’t need to, really,” I insisted, “I’ve shrugged off stuff worse than this.”

Cordelia, Nero, Hercule and Kokoro called out to us from the top of the slope. Nero was holding a bag full of convenience store goods. Suddenly I knew where our little traveling money had gone to. Everyone was dressed in their Holmes Academy uniforms, our outfits having been dirtied the day before. This included Kokoro.

“It looks cute on you,” said Cordelia, leaning down and rubbing her cheek against the junior police officer.

“Sometimes a cop has to go undercover,” said Kokoro, “It’s not like I like this...”

“We’re burning daylight,” said Nero.

The distance across the grassy plains and uncrowded streets felt much longer than it was. The only sound we heard was the wind blowing through bus stations that hadn’t been used in years, and voices from behind every bit of scenery. Unusual flowers were spread across the landscape. Some had petals that looked like they were made of flame. Others were translucent, but still alive. The flowers closest to the school were thriving in the darkness and weak soil near the gates.

“I don’t like this flower garden,” said Cordelia, clinging to Kokoro.

“It’s okay, Cordelia,” I said, reaching down into the flower garden and picking up a tropical flower with a natural luminescence. “We don’t have any flashlights, but you can use this.”

Cordelia, shivering, took the flower in hand. She extended her arm past Sherlock’s face. Sherlock caught the scent of the flower, and in that moment, felt something hot run through her body.

The air was thick with the anger of those that had been involved in the Toys rebellion, and it only became thicker as we entered into the school building. The hallway was completely dark, and the windows had been boarded up. Cordelia held the glowing flower close to her face until she saw a large, ornate set of doors.

“Even without my Toys, this door feels strange,” said Cordelia. “Warm. Like it’s recently been used.”

She clenched the stem of the glowing flower between her teeth and ran for the door. She pushed on the door hinges with all her might, but they refused to move. There were no visible locks on this side, and the door felt smooth to the touch. In spite of the building’s exterior, someone had been keeping the interior in pristine shape.

“Elly, help me out here!” said Cordelia.

Hercule grabbed onto the door handle with one hand. She strained to push the door open, her face blushing even brighter, but her Toys refused to activate. Sherlock’s eyes darted back and forth, looking at the firefly-like flower, then at me.

“Was Victoria’s secret mission anywhere near here? This flower, I think I’ve felt this Toys aura before...” Sherlock said.

I did not respond. I was clutching my body, trying to withstand the injury.

Hercule had suddenly gained that same red ring of light around her eyes. She told Cordelia to stand back. The detective in green grabbed onto the door handles and, with a single shove, sent them spinning around until they had become embedded on the other side of the wall. Hercule clutched her stomach. Her eyes returned to normal; the first thing they saw was Cordelia embracing her.

“This room’s lit!” she said, “Elly, thank you!”

“It’s like there was this voice in my head, guiding me,” said Hercule.

Sherlock grabbed me by the arm, asking once again about Victoria. I informed her that Victoria would never take up a case in Ayase for a long time. We looked above us. There was a sign reading “Auditorium”, with a smaller, temporary sign beneath it that said “under construction”. The chipped paint hinted that it had been under construction for a long time.

Rows upon rows of seats, stretching up to the ceiling, lined the room. We reached the middle of the aisle when a whooshing sound came from one of the boxes. We looked up and saw a girl with a cat backpack, two wobbly antenna balls on her head, and, in something unseen previously, a magnificent red and black mantle.

“Mori!” exclaimed Sherlock.

“Welcome to your final problem, Milky Holmes,” said Mori. “How about if we even the odds a bit? A fair fight? Napoleon Six, assemble! Phantom Thief Armitage, if you please.”

A squeaky platform rose from beneath the stage. On it was a girl with light hair, carrying a lantern in her right hand. Sherlock recognized her face right away.

“Victoria?” asked Sherlock.

“Ah, my foolish little sister,” said Armitage, “The way of a great detective is so boring. We call the shots in this city, not you.”

From the side of the stage, another girl walked in. She had blue eyes and blonde hair, instantly letting Nero know she was American. She wore the Dupin Academy uniform a little short. “The name’s Zecker,” she said, drinking from the flask on her hip, “Lookin’ forward to fightin’ you, Yuzuruzaki.”

A girl old enough to be at university, her hair cut like a Japanese princess, walked into the balcony behind Mori. Sparks flew through her eyes. She reached into the holster on her belt and drew out a rifle. A bullet made from concentrated air shot down into the aisles, forming a small crater. We scrambled to get out of the way. A girl with a knife in her pocket appeared behind her.

“Moranne, Sylvia, let them know who we are,” said Mori.

“Do you know what Dupin Academy currently is, Milky Holmes?” asked Moranne, the girl with the gun.

“Haunted?” asked Cordelia, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“A school for phantom thieves,” said Sylvia.

“We’re Napoleon Six, the top of the class,” said Armitage.

“Lady Mori told us to kick your ass,” said Zecker, sucking from her straw.

“What are you going to do?” asked Mori, “I know you don’t have your Toys. Never thought I’d see the day you’d be the most competent person in the room, Kokoro-chan.”

“Shut up!” said Kokoro, slapping Sherlock with a backhand by instinct.

“Enjoy, Milky Holmes,” said Mori, taking her seat.

I fell into the crater between the seats, landing on my bottom. A sharp, searing pain drove through my body. Sherlock, caring more about me than herself, ran down into the pit and started feeling around the right side of my body, trying to figure out where I was hurting.

“Your arm? Your thigh?” she said, “I’m a detective, I know things about the human body...”

“They shot me in the ass, okay?” I said.

“Come on,” said Hercule, bending down and showing me her back, “I’ll get you to safety. I’d rather not fight either.”

Hercule ran me out into the hall, which was only somewhat more safe. We peeked back inside at the battle going on between Milky Holmes and Napoleon Six. It was a clearly uneven bout. Milky Holmes’ instincts were for reasoning and mystery, not knowing how to dodge a punch. I cringed as I saw their faces become bruised, their opposites showing no mercy.

Nero held one of her wristbands in her right hand, groping around the side of the auditorium for the fuse box with her left. Zecker walked towards Nero, holding out her right hand. It was wrapped in a metallic gauntlet. Nero got close enough to the lights, hoping to turn one of them on Zecker and end the fight. The blonde girl grinned. Her eyes lit up with the spark of Toys.

“Electromagnetic Toys,” she said, “Wave!”

A concentrated burst of energy shot from her palm towards the stage lights, instantly knocking out one of them. She held her hand towards Nero.

“I’ve never seen Toys like that before,” said Nero.

“I’ve always used this on machines, but...” Zecker made a fist with her gauntlet, “I’m curious. What would happen if I used it on a human?”

Nero jammed her wristband into the fuse box, but only got sparks flying back at her. Zecker bent down and looked at Nero, her clothes sparking. She ran her free hand around Nero’s cheek. Her fingers moved past Nero’s frizzy hair all the way up to her hat. Nero bolted up, but not quickly enough. Zecker placed Nero’s blue cap on her head, spinning around and parading it like a trophy.

“Give that back!” Nero said.

“Take it from me first,” said Zecker.

Armitage appeared to have vanished. Cordelia closed her eyes, hoping that canceling one of her senses would increase the others. The sounds of the auditorium had been drowned out by the battles behind her. All she could rely on was smell. Something moved beneath her feet, and a pair of hands ran up her torso until they reached the bottom of her neck. Cordelia opened her eyes and turned around. Armitage, half of her body sinking into a shadow on the stage, had made her move.

“Shadow Toys,” she said. “Undetectable even by you, Glauca. Now,” she whispered into Cordelia’s ear, “imagine yourself in a wonderful flower garden...”

That was all she needed to hear. Drool started running down Cordelia’s cheek. Armitage materialized the rest of her body from the shadows and stomped on Cordelia’s back, sending her onto the stage. The trap door, giving way to an endless darkness, opened beneath Cordelia. She dangled over the edge, unaware of her impending fate.

Kokoro was fending off attacks from Moranne and Sylvia at the same time. Her G-Shield was still recharging. She reached for her leg holster and produced an extendable baton. The baton and Sylvia’s knife clashed against each other, sparks starting to fly. Sylvia’s eyes lit up.

“Speed Toys,” she whispered.

In an instant, her knife became a blur. Kokoro jumped backwards, keeping herself just barely out of arm’s way. She rapidly pressed the deployment button on her wristwatch. From the box above, Moranne was loading another air bullet into her gun. She pressed down on the trigger, sending a bullet of condensed air towards Kokoro.

Kokoro ducked out of the way. The bullet left a small explosion in the wall behind her. She turned around, pressing the button on her watch even faster. Sylvia’s momentum caused her to embed her blade in the wall, bringing her to a sudden stop. All the force of her impact flew back into her body. Moranne loaded another bullet. Kokoro deployed her shield, only to have Moranne shoot her on the top of her hand seconds after it deployed. The shield vanished once again.

“Not again...” Kokoro said, “It’s all up to you, you idiot!” she shouted at Sherlock.

“Why are you doing this?” asked Sherlock.

Sherlock dashed through one of the side doors, following a winding spiral pathway up to the boxes. She heard Mori’s voice over the loudspeaker. A feeling of dread and confusion came over her body. This building was supposed to be a safe haven, but around every dark corner, Sherlock heard the pattering of feet or the reverberations of Mori’s voice. She felt like she was trapped in a demonic fun house.

“Why? The answer’s been in front of you this whole time, Sherlock,” said Mori’s voice, “Dupin Academy did start as a school for delinquents, but it was eventually revealed that the government was using our information without consent, deciding our futures for us. A young girl from a rich family had been on campus that day, and took pity on us. No, she aligned herself with our cause, and became to Dupin Academy what Opera Kobayashi is to you.

“We fought back, and claimed this place as our own. No teachers were needed, just masters of a new craft that could be passed on through the generations, and she would be our first. She was the one who started the practice of taking on code names at this school. Our guiding light, our captain against society. The Phantom Thief Arsene!”

“Arsene?” said Milky Holmes, surprised.

“So this is the Phantom Thief Empire’s headquarters?” said Sherlock, reaching around for her magnifying glass.

“We don’t have headquarters, you idiot,” said Mori, “I saw Arsene myself when I entered this school, but my chance to be with her, to have her heart at my back, that chance never came. She was distracted by you. I don’t know what she sees in you, Milky Holmes. You can’t do anything right. I just had to see why she cared so much about you. So much that I followed the same path she did. Yet, I never broke ties with Napoleon Six.

“Now we can get rid of you and Lady Arsene will be ours once more!” she said.

Mori snapped her fingers, teleporting a railing from her box into the hallway. Sherlock tripped over the metal bar, falling onto the rough carpet. Her knee had been scraped. The stinging pain slowed her speed, but not to the point where she couldn’t keep running. The doors to the box were in sight. Mori snapped her fingers, and the doors swung shut, slamming Sherlock in the forehead and knocking her backwards into the wall. She looked up to see that a light fixture, the wiring in it already shoddy, was about to fall. Her joints were numb. She closed her eyes and hoped for a miracle.

* * *

On the ground floor, I looked at Hercule. She was crouching in the corner, an aura of fear surrounding her.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ve got a plan,” I said.

“But you’re hurt...” said Hercule.

“If we can at least even the odds,” I said, clenching my fists.

Hercule nodded, and charged ahead into the auditorium. Armitage descended into the shadows and slid across the floor. She found herself in Hercule’s shadow. Hercule stomped her foot against the ground, but it was to no effect. Her shadow began to rise up. Armitage had taken over her shadow, making her look like the person she had chosen, but with a black wardrobe and blank, black eyes. Hercule closed her eyes and extended her first, but Armitage stopped her, grabbed her first, and threw her to the ground.

She transformed back into her true form, letting Hercule’s shadow free.

“That’s all of them,” she said, “What do you think, Lady Mori?”

“I want them dead,” said Mori in a childish voice.

* * *

Sherlock heard a voice in her head. Her body felt warm, and her eyes no longer felt heavy and dry. She looked down at her bruised body. She stretched out her hand, hoping to do something to stop Mori. A pink aura surrounded her hand, and the cuts on it began to heal. The leader of Milky Holmes shot a psychokinetic blast at the wall with her left hand, propelling herself up, and fired another in the direction of the ceiling lights, stopping them before they crashed and shattered into destructive shards.

“My Toys...” Sherlock said, “How did they...?”

“You had some help,” said my voice from within her head.

“Watson?” said Sherlock, panicking, “Where are you?”

“I’m part of you. My Toys are Astral Projection. As long as I’m in your body, I boost you enough so that your Toys can be used. It’s good to be in a form where my butt doesn’t hurt,” I said.

“You can do that?” Sherlock said, her brain short circuiting at the idea.

“For a few minutes at a time, yes,” I said, “You wanted to face Mori, didn’t you?”

“Right!” said Sherlock, “Psychokinesis!”

She pried open the lock on the box door, and walked into Mori’s chamber.

Mori turned around, standing up on the edge of the box. Her cape fluttered in the wind of the open auditorium. Lights shone down in her direction. It seemed peaceful up here compared to the chaos that had ensued down below. Sherlock stood in the entryway, and pointed her finger at her junior, standing proud.

“That’s as far as you go,” said Sherlock.

“If it isn’t the idiot detective,” said Mori.

“Wrong!” said Sherlock and myself, our voices in sync, “We are two detectives in one! Now, count your crimes!”

I thrust Sherlock’s arm upward, sending a psychokinetic sphere outward, hoping to grab Mori. She snapped her fingers and vanished, leaving her cape and her antenna headband in her wake. She dropped down from above, her foot heading towards us. Sherlock and I created an energy shield. Mori’s foot ground against the pink ball; she teleported away once again, trying to punch her way through an opening. We sent the energy ball flying outward, knocking Mori off the edge of the balcony.

“Mori!” said Sherlock, her mind operating independent of mine.

“Like that would get me,” Mori said, teleporting to our side.

Mori grabbed Sherlock by the ribbon and smirked. The world before us momentarily became black, and before we knew it, we were on the crumbling roof of the Dupin Academy building. Sherlock was unprepared, and tripped. Her face met with the rooftop tiles. Mori watched from the edge of the rooftop entrance with a smile.

“I’ll handle Sherlock, the rest of you finish them off,” said Mori into her cell phone.

“Roger,” replied Sylvia and Moranne at the same time.

“Got it, boss,” said Zecker, clenching her fist.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” said Armitage.

“What?” said Mori.

“I may be a phantom thief, but to commit cold blooded murder on a weakened enemy is not what Lady Arsene would have desired,” said Armitage.

“Arsene isn’t here! I’m the one in charge of this group now, and I say that we take them out for good!” said Mori. “Teleportation Toys!”

Mori held her hand out. Sparks flew through her eyes. Debris and shards of glass from around the building moved away from their original location and around Mori, orbiting her like a celestial body. Mori grinned, and sent them all towards us. Sherlock and I put up a shield, but it could only be held up for so long. The shield broke, and we became bruised and cut by the whirlwind of pain.

“Here I thought you’d become a challenge,” said Mori, “but you don’t even have your Toys back, do you? You have to rely on Watson to do all your legwork.”

“Sherlock is someone I... admire,” I said, my voice coming through her mouth, “I chose to do this.”

“You admire me?” said Sherlock.

“I don’t want to hurt someone. Who doesn’t deserve it,” Mori said, “You will be spared.”

Mori pointed her finger at me and thrust outward. Her other hand traced an arc across the sky. My comatose body appeared on the rooftop, collapsing without someone to control it. The criminal mastermind pulled inward, forcing my astral self to reconstitute outside Sherlock’s body. I regained my senses, awakening in my own body. After getting a feel for where my fingers and toes were, along with the sharp pain from the rock embedded into my ass, I witnessed the last thing I had wanted to see.

“Farewell, Shellinford,” said Mori.

Sherlock had been frozen for a moment, clutching her stomach from me having exited her body. When she could process what was going on, she was above the rooftop, and standing on nothing. She only had a moment to look down before rapidly falling through the sky, the wind rushing past her eyes. No matter how fast she moved her limbs, gravity was winning. I rushed to the edge and looked downward in fear. I wanted to cry out her name.

“Is this where it ends?” Sherlock thought to herself, “The clouds...”

There was a warm, soft feeling in the back of her head. Her ribbon had become limp. One of the rabbit ears had folded over her eye, and the other was caught on something. Sherlock saw the world momentarily start to blur. She closed her eyes, preparing for impact. When next she opened them, she was standing on the rooftop. That warmth was still surrounding her. She moved her arm up and felt something soft and springy.

“I told you not to do this, but you’ve always got to make your own way,” said a familiar voice.

“President Henriette!” said Sherlock, wrapping her head in the president’s breasts once more.

In that brief moment, Henriette had bounded up from the ground and captured Sherlock in her arms, bringing her to the rooftop to resume the battle. Like Mori, Henriette was wearing the uniform of Dupin Academy. There were a few years of experience and her face was fuller, but it looked identical to the picture we had found in Mori’s case file.

“There you go again, saving her! What about me?” asked Mori.

“My absence was supposed to make you stronger, not turn you into the kind of thief even other thieves despise,” said Henriette.

“Excuse me. Wasn’t your teacher Arsene? This is Henriette,” said Sherlock.

“Er, Shellinford, have you really not noticed...?” I said.

“Noticed what?” Sherlock asked.

Mori’s cheerful expression had been replaced by tranquil fury. She stared at Sherlock and Henriette. Except for the dim light of Toys in her eyes, there was no life in there. She moved her hand upward and summoned a door that had been knocked out of its frame during the fight in the auditorium, and placed it directly above Sherlock’s head.

“Arsene is mine!” she said.

The door crashed onto the roof, but then stopped. A pink glow surrounded it. It hovered a few centimeters above the dent it had created, with Sherlock struggling to push it to the side, under her own strength. She swung the door outward. It shattered into wooden shards against the side of the academy building. The detective in pink walked through the rain of shards, advancing towards Mori. Her eyes had dancing balls of light within them, pulsating in time with the pink glow on her body.

“Yo-your Toys? But you shouldn’t have them. Watson’s over there, and... what’s going on?” Mori said in flat disbelief.

Sherlock calmly walked across the rooftop, her energy barrier protecting her. She embraced Mori and nuzzled against her cheek. Mori was flustered, unable to comprehend what was going on.

The same thing had happened in the auditorium. Hercule and Cordelia had righted themselves, knocking away the weaponry that had come their way. Nero had caused an electrical wire to shoot out of the wall, coiling itself around her hat and returning it to its rightful place. Kokoro pushed herself out from under the weight of her shield, covering her eyes from the three colored glow that had spread throughout the auditorium.

“Thank you,” said Sherlock honestly.

“What? I was trying to kill you,” said Mori.

“I know. It worked. A death-defying situation was all it took to get our Toys back. You must have been planning this all along,” said Sherlock.

Technically, this wasn’t untrue.

“I’m so glad to have you as our junior,” said Sherlock.

“How dense can you be?” said Mori, “I’ve been trained to be a phantom thief. You’re a detective. We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“I don’t think Sherlock hates the same way you do,” said Henriette. “She puts up with worse from her friends.”

“Like Kokoro-chan,” said Sherlock, stopping her hugging to look up.

Down in the auditorium, Kokoro Akechi sneezed. With her last bit of energy, she projected her G-Shield upward, freeing herself from the rubble. Fueled by adrenaline that only immaturity can produce, Kokoro raced to the rooftop, bolted through the door, and jumped on Sherlock’s back, grabbing her by her ribbon.

“Don’t call me Kokoro-chan!” she snarled.

“Detective, phantom thief, policewoman,” said Mori, counting them off, “Doesn’t matter. I’ll destroy all of you!”

* * *

In the auditorium, the members of Napoleon Six, except for Armitage, briefly regrouped.

“So you have your Toys back, big deal,” said Sylvia.

“Without Shellinford, you’re weaker than ever,” said Moranne.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Zecker, taking another drink.

Kokoro had long since fled the room, and the remaining members of Milky Holmes were outmatched. That didn’t matter. Nero tossed her hat into the air, grabbing the snack she had been storing in it. She took a bite and grinned. A sparking yellow aura surrounded her.

“An east wind has blown, one that Yokohama has never seen,” said Nero.

“Things may have been cold and bitter, and our futures were lost,” said Cordelia, placing her hand on Nero’s right wristband.

“A safer, more peaceful city lies in the sunshine; the storm has cleared,” said Hercule, her blush replaced with a confident glare.

“That moment is now! Milky Holmes has returned at full power!” the three said in unison.

Moranne reached behind her back and produced a large rifle. She set the sights on Milky Holmes, whispering “Wind Burst Toys,” under her breath. The rifle was loaded with three bullets. She pressed on the trigger and, in rapid succession, the compressed air projectiles soared towards the detectives.

Cordelia’s eyes lit up. She ducked out of the way, and pushed Nero and Hercule into position where the bullets only grazed their hair. Large craters appeared in the stage wall behind them. Cordelia stood up and brushed her hair back. She was unharmed. Moranne fired another round of bullets at the stage, this time aiming for the sandbags.

“You can’t pull the same trick twice,” Nero said, “GO!”

Nero inserted one of her wristbands into the controls on the side of the stage. The rotating platform beneath her started to spin, causing her to be out of one of the air bullet’s range. The other two were heading straight for her. Hercule, without saying a word, motioned for Nero to jump off.

Hercule dug her fingers into the edge of the turntable, prying it out of its spot and holding it in front of her, Nero and Cordelia, absorbing the bullets. Something of this size was light for Hercule. She grabbed the back of it with one hand and ran ahead, plowing through the aisles to reach Moranne.

“Let’s see how you do in the dark,” said Zecker, firing an EMP pulse out of her hand at the lights above. The auditorium fell into near complete darkness, except for the lights in the eyes of the detectives and thieves.

“Just fine,” said Cordelia, her eyes lighting up. “Elly!”

Hercule dropped the turntable, letting it roll like a clunky wheel. It spun out, knocking back Moranne and Sylvia. Their weapons fell far away, and their bodies, having been dealt a major blow by part of the stage, couldn’t move. Hercule leaped into the air and bounced off Cordelia’s shoulders, holding out her first. A green aura surrounded it as she let out a hot blooded war cry.

“No way,” said Zecker in shock.

Zecker held out her gauntlet, palm forward. Hercule’s fist met with the metal weapon and crunched it, creating a pile of wires and scrap metal. Only a small portion remained on Zecker’s hand. She looked at her hand, glowing bright red, and collapsed to her knees. Without a way to focus her powers, she was no good in a fight.

“I concede,” said Armitage walking out of the shadows and slowly clapping.

“Come on, I’m still raring for a fight,” said Nero.

“There is no need,” said Armitage, vanishing into the shadows, “I’m only in this for the rewards. Comitting murder isn’t really my style. Perhaps we’ll meet again someday, Milky Holmes. Give my greetings to Victoria.”

The auditorium fell silent.

“So... we won?” asked Hercule.

“Not quite,” said Cordelia, listening to the rooftop, “Sheryl still has her own battles.”

* * *

“I’ll hold them off, you idiot,” said Kokoro, shooting her recharged G-Shield in front of the motley party, making it large enough to shield all of them.

“I won’t lose,” said Sherlock.

“It’s an honor to fight with you,” said Henriette, closing her eyes and moving her hands about until she looked like the Buddha.

Even in a do or die situation like this, there were things Henriette did not want Sherlock to know. Her Toys were still a complete mystery to Holmes Academy, and would remain so until she chose to reveal it on her own. Beneath her eyelids, a dim light shone. The blur created by her arms was aimed in Mori’s direction.

Mori had focused her anger on Sherlock to the point that she considered Henriette a noncombatant. Her body started to feel light and euphoric, yet shaky and cold. The rooftop appeared to vanish beneath her shoes, showing the long way down into the auditorium. Mori did not know when gravity would take effect and stood there, waiting, motionless.

“Mori Arty!” Sherlock shouted.

Pink energy surrounded Sherlock’s hands and Mori’s body. Mori saw herself suspended in a pink cloud of energy. Sherlock spun her finger around, causing Mori to do the same. Fragments of the roof lifted up, aiming to lightly strike her.

Mori’s world became blurry and her body became dizzy. She stumbled around. Henriette changed the illusion to a carnival, full of bright lights and loud noises. Mori forced an empty, depraved laugh. She had no idea where she was anymore, and the decorations at the park all looked like Sherlock, staring down at her.

“Who are you? You should have been dead!” said Mori.

Mori extended her fingers. The illusion didn’t break, but merely changed. The school rooftop appeared to her as a large ravine over a roaring waterfall. The fragments of the roof were redirected. Henriette jumped out of the way to a spire above. Kokoro called for Sherlock to get behind her shield, but Sherlock did not. She crossed her arms and braved the storm of debris.

“I’m not sure who I am,” said Sherlock. “I’m not the top student at Holmes Academy. I’m not as good a detective as sis. Yet this world still calls out to me! The place I end up is not the place I set out for, but the me who arrived there is better than the day before. I’m passive, but my mind is racing. There are so many little things in this world worth finding out. Grandpa Holmes taught me that. Mycroft taught me that. Henriette taught me that. Even you have taught me that! So I’ll keep on fighting.”

The G-Shield vanished. Henriette jumped down from the spire, grabbing onto part of the railing, and used it to block the last piece of tile. With the rail dented, their last line of defense was gone.

“Sheryl...” I said.

I tried to walk in front of Mori, but she stuck her arm out, preventing me passage.

“I’m Sherlock Shellinford! The most ambitious detective in the world!” she shouted. “Kokoro-chan! Henriette! Put your hands on mine!”

“Just this once, I’m not going to hit you,” said Kokoro.

“Don’t tell me she’s going to-” said Henriette.

“BARITSU!”

A wave of white light washed over the rooftop, spreading out from Sherlock. She let go of Henriette and Kokoro’s hands and bounded off the top of the wave, sailing higher into the air. Her pink aura was drawn closer to the pink aura that had been placed around Mori. Though harsh winds from the attack were blowing, Sherlock called out to me.

“Watson!” she said.

I nodded in return. It was clear what I had to do.

“Astral Projection Toys!” I said.

My body glimmered with multicolored sparks. The sparks converged and became a quasi-solid mass in the shape of myself. That form shot itself into Sherlock’s body, aiming for her heart. Sherlock’s eyes gained the red glow that signaled I was in there. With her powers already back, my presence magnified them to a level even greater than before. Sherlock punched through Henriette’s illusion barrier. Mori’s back was within her sight.

Sherlock put her hands together and extended her pointer fingers. She landed on the ground, bending down to her knees. The wind blew Mori’s skirt upward. Sherlock thrust her hands at Mori’s buttocks. forcing the cloth uncomfortably into her junior’s anus. Mori’s eyes went blank and her mouth opened in shock.

“...wh-what?” she said.

“Kancho, Milky Holmes version!” said Sherlock, “You’re a prankster, Mori. I wanted to play one on you in return.”

“I feel kind of dirty. I need a long shower,” said Mori. “Just go.”

“You’re welcome at Holmes Academy anytime,” said Sherlock, “Will we see you back at the dorms?”

“I’ll think about it,” said Mori flatly. She whispered under her breath. “Why did I not plan for that?”

The battle finally over, I separated from Sherlock and returned to my own body. The rest of Milky Holmes ran up to the rooftop, getting Mori wrapped up in the big group hug by mistake. Sparks were still flying off their bodies, but there were genuine smiles on their faces.

“Sheryl, we totally showed those thieves,” said Nero.

“It looks like you’re alright,” said Hercule.

“President Henriette?” said Cordelia, looking over Sherlock’s shoulder, “When did you get here?”

Henriette reclined against the wall. “I’ve always been here. Cordelia, do you still have that key on you?”

Cordelia reached into her hat and produced the bent key. Henriette ran it between her fingers and instructed us to follow her back into the school.

* * *

We walked through the nearly empty corridors, watching the sun shine in through the windows. Cordelia’s glowing flower looked even more radiant now. There were no attackers waiting for us. Henriette’s presence must have told them we were alright. At the far end of the school, beneath a staircase, Henriette brushed aside a clump of dust to reveal a small keyhole.

The key was used, and the door gave way to a small room. It didn’t look like it could hold more than two people. The walls of this tiny room, lit by a single lamp in the center, were lined with photographs of the students of Dupin Academy. Everyone in these pictures was smiling, having fun, even if they were unaware of what was happening at the moment. Henriette pulled open a drawer and revealed several diaries, including her own, full of more photographs and stories.

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” she said.

“Henriette, you used to be a detective?” said Sherlock.

“I still am,” she replied, “Some of the time. I didn’t want you to think I cared about my old school more than you guys. You’re both pretty important.”

“Looks like we can declare this case solved,” I said.

“We really oughta be getting back,” said Kokoro, “but the helicopter crashed. Chief’s going to kill me for this.”

“I’ve got it under control,” said Henriette.

This would not be the first time most of us had ridden in a limo. For Kokoro, it would be the first time she had not rode in the trunk.

* * *

“The presentation of the Shinichi Kudo Award for Excellence in Crime Solving will now be awarded,” spoke the school’s principal.

It would be summer soon.

For now, Milky Holmes still had their Toys, and had been hoping that they would not vanish again. Mori sat with us in the audience, with Kamaboko on her shoulder. Despite her absence, she had gotten back on Mr. Nijuuri’s good side by finding Beautiful You under her covers. She had been the one to put it there in the first place, but Nijuuri did not care about trivial details.

“Aki,” said Victoria, sitting beside me, “You saw my sister, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Last we saw, she and Roll were riding off towards another city,” I said.

“She’ll come back,” said Victoria, “and if not, I’ll find her myself.”

“The Kudo Award goes to... Henriette Mystere, for stopping the activities of Napoleon Six,” said the principal.

“Huh?” said Milky Holmes.

“Serves you right,” said Kokoro from the front row, “People who sneak out don’t win awards.”

“You went with them,” said Tsugiko.

“The copter too,” said Hirano.

“Guys, the stage,” said Saku, tapping idly at her laptop.

Henriette accepted her award, though she was confused as to who had nominated her. The ceremony eventually came to a close.

“We’ll be graduating someday,” I said to Sherlock, “What do you guys want to do after that?”

“More detective work,” said Sherlock.

“I wanna try something different. Maybe being a chef,” said Nero.

“Are there any universities out there?” asked Hercule.

“I’m not going to end up on the streets again,” said Cordelia.

“The important thing,” said Sherlock, bringing everyone close together and holding her magnifying glass to the sky, “is that we’ll always be Milky Holmes.” Kamaboko leaped onto her shoulder. “Watson, join in. This photo op will go away soon.”

I got in the picture, standing to the side, but my arms close to Sherlock’s. She pulled me in closer. I could tell from her smile that the admiration was mutual.


End file.
